


Weekend Tea

by gaypropagandist



Category: Political RPF - Russian 21st c.
Genre: M/M, Medvedev, Putin - Freeform, RPF, RPS - Freeform, Russia, putvedev
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-31 15:26:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3983173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaypropagandist/pseuds/gaypropagandist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>December 2014. Musings on the current political environment. Dima POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weekend Tea

**Author's Note:**

> There was a point to this fic but then I kinda wandered… I honestly don’t know what happened.

“What do you mean it’s still sliding?”

Vladimir’s sweater sure had a lot of pills on it. How old was it? He’s had it five… maybe ten years. He only wore old clothes. He hated change. Even something simple as a new pair of pants upset him.

“Are you sure? How much?”

Dima continued picking at the hem of the sweater. This was supposed to be a relaxing evening, just the two of them taking a small break from their busy lives.

“WHAT!?”

He could feel Vladimir’s body tense up, anger radiating off.

He signed. It looked like there would be no chance of a quiet evening at home now. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had a decent night’s sleep. He really needed this.

“FIX IT! I don’t care how you do it, but I want it fixed NOW!”

Dima jumped at little, surprised at the force which the phone was put back on the receiver.

Sometimes it was a good thing Vladimir hated smartphones. He could only imagine the many different ways a mobile could be destroyed when he got in these moods. If the Soviets did anything right it was making sturdy phones.

Vladimir got up and stomped over to the window.

Dima watched him for a few moments. He looked so tired. The usual puffiness under his eyes was replaced with black bags. He desperately needed to relax if only for a moment. “I’m going to get us some tea.”

He walked off through the shockingly quiet house to the kitchen. Since it was a Saturday, and Vladimir typically spent the weekends in the company of family or friends, the kitchen staff was off. The maids were busy with dry cleaning and other non-daily chores. It was a surprise to see Novo-Ogaryovo so empty. Normally it was abuzz with activity, but he wasn’t about to complain. Tea was no trouble to make and he preferred the privacy. Supposedly in the private quarters there were no cameras, but could you really be sure? Maybe he was just picking up Vladimir’s paranoia but better to be safe than sorry.  

Once in the kitchen Dima began rifling through the cabinets looking to see what the staff kept in terms of tea. He was hoping they had more than the Kremlin standard, but alas no such luck. He reluctantly filled the electric kettle up with water, sighing to himself. Vladimir could be so boring sometimes. Once he found something he liked he stuck with it. He ate the exact same breakfast every day. He drank the same tea. He wore the same suits. He kept the same daily routine. There was never any chance of him ever stepping out of his established comfort zone.

Twenty three? Yes that’s right, twenty-three. They had been sneaking around for twenty-three years. Oh, was he just so tired of it. Not Vladimir of course! No. As boring as the man tended to be Dima could never tire of him. He was tired of the rules. Playing it safe and pretending was so exhausting. How he wished they didn’t have to hide. How he wished he could live in his daydreams where he and Vladimir ran away to their very own tropical island to spend the rest of their days alone together.

Beep Beep

Oh, the water was ready. He regretted having to leave his fantasy world of warm sun and soft kisses to face the dismal reality.

After setting up he tray he began rummaging through the cabinets looking to see what there was for sweets. He ceased caring about his weight long ago. To be honest he never put much effort into his health, but when his PR team told him it was imperative he looked fit and young he did as told. But that was 7 years ago and everything had changed since then so really what was the point? People were going to laugh at him and hate him no matter what so he might as well enjoy himself. And besides Vova stopped caring too. Ever since the accident he quit playing the fitness card. So why should he make himself even more miserable by restricting his diet and exercising? The two of them could get fat and old together.

Oh good! There was a box of ginger snaps. It wasn’t gingerbread but it would do. He picked up the tray and walked back up the stairs quite pleased with himself. He had managed to put together afternoon tea on matching plate ware.

As expected nothing much changed in the living room. Vladimir was still standing by the window, arms crossed and brows furrowed.

He had to try.

Dima set the tray down and walked over to Vladimir who showed no sign of even being aware of his presence. Oh boy. He was in one of those pouting moods. Dima lightly touched his arm, “come sit down and have tea with me.”

No response.

So Dima wrapped both hands around Vladimir’s arm and lightly pulled in the direction of the sofa. Surprisingly he offered no resistance.

They sat down and Dima began pouring the tea. Personally he didn’t care all that much for it, he preferred coffee, but it was what Vladimir liked. And his Volodya like just a hint of cream and two spoonful’s of sugar. He handed the cup to Vladimir which he took and just started at.

Not a good sign.

After adding three spoonful’s of sugar to his own cup (no cream, just like his coffee – what he would do for a nice cup of coffee right now) he curled up next to Vladimir. To lighten the mood he began to chat about some of the less boring bits in his life: his son and his pets. For the most part Vladimir remained unresponsive, but Dima did get a small smile at the end of his story about Ilya getting into trouble with campus police when his fraternity pranked the neighboring sorority. But it wasn’t long before Dima ran out of things to say and the room descended into silence.

Dima was sad. He had no right to feel sad but he just couldn’t help it. He had everything he ever wanted. He had plenty of money. He had nice homes. He had a great job. He had his perfect man…

He rubbed Vladimir’s arm, a poor attempt at comfort. This wasn’t part of the plan. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Now they knew there would be some risks involved, but they never even dreamed it would get this bad. The very worst of the worst case scenarios was quite literally unfolding before their eyes. And he was sure there were things Vladimir wasn’t telling him.

Oh god now he was getting himself all upset. Now was not the time to wallow in depression. He had to take care of Vladimir.

Dima took the now cold cup of tea out his Vladimir’s hands and placed it back on the tray. He didn’t even take one sip. He crawled into his lap, straddling him. He wrapped his arms around his neck and nuzzled into his chest. He always enjoyed listening to Vladimir’s heartbeat. He found the strong, steady rhythm most soothing. And more than anything else in the world he loved falling asleep to it.

He stayed in that position for several minutes. Vladimir wasn’t returning his affections, but at the same time he wasn’t tossing him off. He must be very upset.

Dima knew this would happen, and he was sure that deep down Vladimir knew it too. Of course he had hoped it wouldn’t get to this point but they couldn’t plan for everything. How were they to know that Ukraine would fall!? Maybe Vladimir was right. Maybe they should’ve let that bitch be in charge, but who could know for sure that she would comply? At least they knew that stupid oaf wouldn’t stab them in the back.

And besides the real problem were the sanctions, not the politicians. Those damn sanctions were ruining everything. Well it was nice to have something to blame, something to hide their internal problems with, but… was it a reliable excuse? Would _they_ ride out this hardship? Who even knew how long the sanctions would last! Well… they all knew how to end the sanctions but that wasn’t an option on the table. Right now they only had short-term strategies to maintain the status-quo and placate the people, and there was no telling how long that would work. And probably the worst part was their stat of complete dependency on propaganda. The more propaganda they used the more dangerous nationalism they were stirring up. They were playing with fire. They had to get burned eventually.

If only they could get the economy to turn around. That would alleviate a great deal of pressure. Prices would stop storing. They wouldn’t have to waste reserve funds. And they wouldn’t have to use as much propaganda…

“Volodya?”

Silence

Dima took a deep breath. It was time they had this discussion. No more beating around the bush. “What about hiring a new Prime Minister?”

He had barely finished asking the question before Vladimir answered with a very firm, “No.”

“But it might buy us some ti…”

“I need you where you are.”

“But…”

“No.”

“Please just hear me out.” He sat up and faced Vladimir who looked quite irritated. “Everyone hates me. The Russian people, my cabinet, your cabinet, your friends… Oh your friends, especially. They absolutely loath me. Whenever we’re in the same room it just oozes out of their pores and I’m sure I’m not the only one who notices…”

“Dima.” A warning to get to the point.

“Look, the majority do not want me around. Replacing me would not only buy you time but it would make you look even more like the strong, decisive leader you are. It’s a win-win for everyone!”

“I don’t win.”

“Well of course you do! Approval ratings…”

“Mine are adequate already. I’m not concerned.”

Dima was at a loss. Why couldn’t Vladimir understand? So many think tanks and journalists had already recommended the measure. Everyone could see the logic in his removal. Everyone but Vladimir.

“You hate your job?”

“What?” Dima was completely taken aback. What kind of question was that!? It was asked so frankly. Was it a trick? He didn’t think he’d be able to lure Vladimir into a proper discussion, but he didn’t dream the conversation would go in this direction.

“Then you are unsatisfied with your compensation; with me.”

Was that a statement or a question? Dima even have a chance to process Vladimir’s cruel words as he was roughly shoved aside. Vladimir stomped across the room back to the window where he resumed what could only be described as pouting.

What the hell just happened? He felt as if he had been slapped in the face. Did Vladimir seriously just twist his words? What the hell was he thinking? A knot began to form in the pit of his stomach. How dare Vladimir insinuate such things! He was angry now.

“Are you accusing me of disloyalty?”

Silence

Vladimir was purposely keeping his back to him. Dima dug his fingers into the soft fabric of the couch. “How dare you. I have been by your side since the very beginning. In all these years not once have I waivered. I’ve always supported you. I’ve always been there for you. Just like I am right now.”

Tears that had been threatening to fall since Vladimir spewed those hateful words were now spilling down his cheeks. He was so pathetic. He couldn’t even get angry and fight like a normal person. He hated himself for being so weak.

This wasn’t how the conversation was supposed to go. He could feel Vladimir shutting down, locking him out. No he was not about to let his stubbornness put a wall between them. So Dima got up and walked across the room to him. The question of Dima’s employment had been hanging around them like a black cloud for years, and Vladimir was going to face it right now. This topic was not going to be dismissed or covered up with a fake fight.

He cleared his throat, mentally preparing for what he was about to say. He needed to be calm. Shouting would get them nowhere. “We have to compensate for our losses. A harsh reality calls for harsh measures.”

Dima reached out and put his hand on Vladimir’s arm. “I love you, Vladimir. I only want what is best.” He had to know this was for him. It was always for him. He wasn’t some Kadyrov throwing words around about sacrifice and loyalty. He had given it all away for Vladimir twice. And he was ready to do it again.

“…and what about _us_?”

“What do y…”

“Does what we have not count?” Vladimir finally turned and looked at him. His eyes were a sea of emotions.

Dima just stared back at him. He had no idea what he was talking about. What the hell was going on?

“Oh, I see you didn’t account for in your calculations what you obviously consider an insignificant relationship in your life.” He brushed off his hand and turned his attention back towards the window.

“Vladimir, you’re the only one who matters to me.”

He snorted. “If I actually mattered you would have thought to include me in your plans.”

Dima just stood there. He was utterly confused with the whole situation. This conversation wasn’t making any sense. Something was wrong. “Vladimir, please tell me what’s wrong. You’ve been out of sorts for weeks now. What’s going on?”

When Vladimir didn’t respond he squeezed himself between him and the window. He was not going to let him hide from this. Thankfully they were in one of the back rooms so the windows overlooked the forest instead of the driveway. He placed his hands on his crossed arms, but Vladimir was doing all he could to ignore him. He decided to prod further, “You can tell me anything.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Oh, Volodya…” Dima closed his eyes. What to do… What to do… Vladimir was clearly a mess, and now for the first time in their history together something actually might be wrong. He didn’t know what was worse. And as his mind became a whirlwind of sadness, fear, and anger he could feel his body become numb. Was this really happening? Was their relationship deteriorating before his very eyes?

Suddenly he felt a pair of strong arms wrap around him. Vladimir was squeezing him tightly. “I need you.”

Dima almost missed those words, spoken barely at a whisper. But he understood. So many people had begun to doubt Vladimir, and a few were even prepared to abandon him. So his support was more important than anything else, even the economy. He was all Vladimir had.

So Dima buried his head in Vladimir’s chest and let the tears flow.


End file.
